


a blaze that only lovers see

by bisexualklausmikaelson



Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 04:39:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17176061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexualklausmikaelson/pseuds/bisexualklausmikaelson
Summary: It hits her the moment Rebekah is braiding flowers into her hair and as Freya is touching up her make up that sometimes, she feels like she’s missing out on something. Even when she’s happy, really fucking happy…it just feels like something’s just not right.





	a blaze that only lovers see

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: au future fic/ hayley and elijah get married klaus watches from the sidelines…or does he?

―

(The male stripper at her bachelorette party oddly resembles her future brother-in-law.

His soft blond curls, ivory pale skin, bright blue eyes, even that damn English accent. Rebekah must really have some sort of brother complex, as she hired a guy who looks exactly like Klaus Mikaelson.

And if the amount of cheering coming from the two Mikaelson sisters weren’t bad enough, the fact that said Klaus-look-a-like was now giving her a lap dance really confused Hayley to a whole new level. It’s not a sign, it can’t be. She doesn’t believe in stuff like that. But, sometimes, when he looks at her like that she thinks―)

―

“It’s just a bloody photograph,” Klaus mutters as he stands beside Hayley, rolling his eyes at her with frustration. An obvious frown stains his pink lips as Hope chides him to look at the camera that she’s still kind of struggling to operate.

“Well,” Hayley sighs, pulling lightly on her thin white veil. “It be nice to have a picture with just the three of us, it would make Hope happy,” she carefully reminds him, holding her head up high, as if she had practiced the art of presenting herself as the queen of everything.

Well today was definitely the perfect day to act like that, given that she is the bride.

“Says the woman who’s disregarding her child’s happiness and marrying her uncle,” he scoffs, attempting to disrupt the normalization of her relationship with Elijah.

She could think of a dozen things to say, and could comment and set up a number of different comebacks because surely, these borderline incestuous siblings could not be strangers to the concept of odd bed fellows such as herself and Elijah.

But instead, she says this: “Our child,” Hayley corrects, holding a finger up at waving it at Klaus in a scolding way.

He’s smirking but also glaring at her, looking half-amused and half frustrated. And it’s in that moment that Hope decides to jump in between them and orders Kol to take a picture.

―

It hits her the moment Rebekah is braiding flowers into her hair and as Freya is touching up her make up that sometimes, she feels like she’s missing out on something. Even when she’s happy, really fucking happy…it just feels like something’s just not right.

―

She’s fiddling with the zipper of her dress, nimble fingers strain as she glances at her reflection in the mirror.

And suddenly, he appears in the doorway.

“Need some help there, little wolf?” Klaus notices, sauntering in casually before she even has a chance to reply.

“Yeah,” She nods, as he replaces her hands with his own. The smoothness of his tuxedo brushes against the small of her back as he zips her up. It’s only then that she notices how the cornflower blue of his tie brings out the color of his eyes. “Thanks,” she says, and the tension in the room speaks volumes when she meets his gaze in the mirror, and it’s utterly terrifying.

“I thought this day would never come,” he says quietly. “I assumed you’d just keep my brother waiting forever,” his words cut through the seams of the heavy velvet silence between them.

“Not forever,” she offers, failing to trust her voice to tell him the truth that she is no longer sure of any of this. “We were just waiting for the right time…for Hope to be old enough to understand and for―” her tone quivers, tingling with anxiety as he reaches over to draw her veil over her face.

“You know, it’s not too late to runaway,” He mentions and, somewhere, in the darkest parts of her soul, those are the words she’d wanted to hear all along.

“Klaus,” but, her head betrays her heart, it always does. “That’s not funny,” she tells him before he exits the room and she’s left with nothing but the ghost of his touch.

―

He walks her down the aisle to give her away.

It’s her gloved hand grasping his arm, his eyes never leaving the pink of her lips, and a whisper of something intangible hanging between them, like a phantom.

She looks ahead, at Elijah who is waiting for her at the altar with the biggest grin on his face. And unintentionally blushes when Klaus leans in to kiss her cheek once they reach the end. The fluttering of his lips linger on her skin and her heart skips a beat before she places her hand firmly over Elijah’s.

The original hybrid offers her a sly little wink before taking a seat next to Hope.

(And, for the rest of the ceremony, she trails her hand one too many times over that space on her cheek where he had kissed her).

―

She’s standing alone in the balcony, teary eyed, red, and sniffling. Hayley stares at the single star in the sky, wondering to herself when everyone else is busy downstairs eating cake and dancing the night away.

“Well,” Klaus emerges from the darkness, handkerchief in one hand. “If it isn’t the lovely bride,” he murmurs, as she doesn’t even flinch when he stands next to her.

She only glances his way momentarily and yanks the tissue out of his fingers. “What do you want?” she manages to say, before turning her attention back to the fading moon hanging over them.

“That’s no way to talk to your brother-in-law,” he smirks, inching closer, and allowing the weight of his jacket to cover her bare shoulders. She doesn’t even act surprise, even though she’s this crying mess of confusion, a queen never falters. “Good thing we conceived Hope before you got married, or else that would’ve been rather difficult to explain,” he shrugs carelessly at his own poor choice of words.

“You’re sick,” she sighs, before blowing her nose into his handkerchief.

“Oh c’mon, it’s funny,” He chuckles, “Not like we had an affair or anything, even though there were many occasions where we could have,” he tilts his head slightly to the left to look at her face in order to observe her reaction and study her further.

“That’s never happening,” she laughs shakily, ignoring the way her own heart beats erratically and rings in his ears because he couldn’t stand to look at her. Not with the way the strands of loose hair hide the tears brimming down her hazel eyes. Not with the way she clutches on to his jacket with her thin fingers. Not with the way her teeth sink into her bottom lip―

“Never say never, sweetheart,” He accidentally rests a hand over her shoulder.

It’s at that moment where she realizes that he’s done this before. Every time he doesn’t know how to tell her something, his fingers always find her collarbone. Almost as if he’s trying to tell her that he loves her in a thousand different ways, and this is just one of them.

“You’re impossible,” she says. “Are you done?” she questions.

“Almost,” he leans in to kiss her, on the mouth this time, and she lets him.

Her lips meet his for a little too long and their breaths mingle and she feels light-headed because it’s been far too long since she last remembers what it was like to be a little more human, a little less beastly.

Realization washes over her when a gasp tumbles out of her mouth, pulling away a second too late and offering him a dark stare.

“That,” She forces herself to say, “Was a mistake,” Hayley’s met with chagrin, burning with mortification when he refuses to move away from her.

He shakes his head, looks beyond the stars, beyond the moon, and towards that impossible happy-ending he’s been searching for all along.

“I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life, love,” Klaus mumbles, “This is not one of them,” his hands curl into fists at his sides as he walks away from her, one last time.

―

It’s only after the reception where he finds himself alone in his jeep and he’s listening to the sound of Sahara spitting rage. Of wild adrenaline, of a heart being buried somewhere in San Francisco, in Guadalajara, in every place he knows no one can find him―

“Wait!” She is running through the large white doors, ivory heels in one hand, and the hem of her gown in the other as she launches herself in front of his car.

There is hunger written all over her face and she is soaked in dark, deep red passion and thick lashes like moth wings, mascara staining her cheeks.

“You said it wasn’t too late,” she repeats his words to him, hearing the click of his car door being unlocked and she hops in.

“Let’s get out of here, little wolf,” he says, once she slips her hand in his with the other one on the wheel while they drive off.

And it doesn’t feel like a fairytale ending― it feels the beginning, with the scent of sandalwood, adventure, and something epic waiting just around the corner.

―


End file.
